A Glance Across the Table
by Sammia Took
Summary: Quiet musings of Pippin after they returned from the quest, and all it takes to gain the feeling of hope. Short. Read and Review, please.


**.A Glance Across the Table.**

Sammia Took 

**03/10/04**

It's a little bit funny. It's been thirteen months since we set out on our quest. Thirteen months. Over a year, its' been. It seemed like so much longer then. But it was only 13 months. And I still can't remember the way it used to be. I don't think the others remember, either. It seems like such a long time ago, being back here, at home. In the Shire. Perhaps we thought that it'd be the same. As if we had just gone traveling for a few days. That the routines of our old lives would pick up again as easily they had been spent. 

I think, that before, I wouldn't understand. I don't think I'd know why, or how it was different. But then again, I didn't understand much of anything either, like Gandalf pointed out numerous times. Perhaps I've grown a little wiser. Actually, perhaps we've all grown a little bit wiser. I think that the passage of time took us four hobbits along for the journey that we'd been sheltered from our whole lives.

Going to Rivendell with Frodo had just seemed like a tiny adventure, something that'd end. But it didn't. I don't think we had any idea what we were doing the day that we pledged and bound our lives together to save Middle Earth. We never knew the meaning of death, the meaning of hope, the meaning of sorrow and anger and the feeling of helplessness and being frightened. Those were just…words. You thought you felt the emotions and you thought you felt anger. But it doesn't relate to what it really means. It's just a snippet, a piece of it. For most of my life, I had grown up thinking that it was real. But it wasn't. I didn't understand. I didn't understand what they meant. I didn't understand that it wasn't the time for silliness and foolishness. I don't think I wanted to know.

But the moment when the arrows thudded deeply into Boromir's chest, I understood. The moment when I realized that Frodo and Sam may never come back, I understood. When Gandalf stood against the Witch-King, I understood. When Denethor spent his last trying to burn Faramir at the pyre, I understood. When I saw Merry lying on the battlefield, I understood. As I looked at the eyes of my friends, I understood. But when the eight members of the fellowship gathered by Frodo's bedside, I knew. I knew what it meant. I knew that from just a glance, just a whisper, just a touch, what we had done. 

The look in my cousin's eyes, the gentle pat of reassurance from Gandalf, the whisper of hope in my ear. Perhaps it was when we all were there, in Gondor, outside the White Tree. It was nightfall. Our idle chatter had fallen silent, and we were just there, alone. Gimli was smoking his pipe, wisps of grey smoke floating into the air like past   memories. Legolas stood, his eyes up to the stars as though they were speaking to him, and Aragorn was beside him, his own eyes fixated on the White Tower as it glimmered in the black night. Frodo sat against the tree, his hands clasped and Sam with a pipe unlit in his hands. Merry was chewing on an apple and Gandalf-- Gandalf was just watching us all. 

And in that silence, it came to me that there were eight of us here. The thought that we were missing Boromir struck me so suddenly. I coughed on my smoke from my pipe. I bent over, choking on the foul air, hoping to expel it from my lungs. Except it wouldn't fade. The hazy feeling tickled my throat, lurking as I hacked, in need of air. My cough slowly subsided. I sat back down, deciding on ending my smoking for the moment. From beside me, Merry spoke quietly, though we all could hear him.

"You all right, Pip?"

At that moment all our eyes seemed to meet; rather, they sort of fell on me, then met one another. It wasn't wondering if I was all right, we weren't seeking an answer to that question, but another. Were we all right now? Were we better? Had we survived those thirteen months fully, had we recovered from our wounds and losses? Those simple words could mean so many things at once. The smoke still lingered near my throat, and I could recall the feel of choking on it. Just like I could recall being captured by orcs. The memory still lingered. Did that haze of smoke lift from us all? Was it the same as before, for all of us? Would it just pass by out of time? No. 

It wouldn't. It changed. Nothing could be the way it was before, and nothing would be able to change that simple fact. The thirteen months would pass, but the scars would linger on. Were we all right? No. We weren't. We'd changed pass the point where you could be bad, you could be fine, you could be okay. It all meant nothing. And as our eyes met, we all knew that the simplicity in our lives was over. We had to start anew. And I didn't know where to began. 

But I am awakened from my thoughts as the table shifts slightly, as Frodo plunks down a mug of ale in front of each of us. I glance up, the familiar noise and cheeriness of the in somehow only remaining a simple background noise. I grasp the edge of the cup, holding on to it, lingering. My eyes scan the tavern as if to see something to shock me from my reverie, except I do not find it there. I pause, and feel compelled to turn and look upon my friends, for a moment. 

Somehow, I do not feel surprised to see that they too, are looking at each other, in sort of that quiet understanding. I look across to Merry, then to Sam, and then to Frodo. Each look solemn, but as my gaze turns to Frodo, just in the ending moment of my glance, he smiles. And then, I know. The feeling that had been in me for the last thirteen months faded, at last. Was it loneliness, fear, regret? I'm not sure what it was, but it disappeared. The small smile that graced my dear second cousin's face was enough for me to know. We might have left everything behind, but we still had each other.

And in that quiet comfort of our friends, we each took up our mugs of ale, in a silent toast, among the laughter and golden light around us, as if drowning away the past. Yet again, I pause, before drinking, looking into the amber liquid, as I smile to myself, before taking a long draught. Sometimes, it took no more then the simple reassurance of a glance across the table.

End.

**A/N= I have had that on my mini-computer for the last four months. I only finished it today, since I decided it was time to get it up before I deleted it or something. What'd you think? It's short, sweet, and I hope good. I was inspired by the end scene in ROTK when they just all look at each other, and I came up with this ficlet. Eh…I need critiquing, I haven't written in decades! Good, bad, awful, should I drown in a puddle of pudding? (not that it would be bad). Just don't be cruel to me. –huggles Pippin plushie- So….review and tell me what you think, chicas! Much love.**


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